


What Time Is It, Mr. Fox?

by OctarinePegacorn



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: F/M, Plot Twist, Plot Twists, hope people on here actually like my plot twists, i don't want to spoil anything, idk what to tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 04:11:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6889396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OctarinePegacorn/pseuds/OctarinePegacorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your boyfriend Mike has scored a job as a night guard at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. Concerned about his motives for acquiring such a low paying gig, you follow him to work one night and (re)discover disturbing information about your connection to the restaurant. Among other things...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Twelve o'Clock

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this fic based off the game by the lovely Scott Cawthon was originally posted on my deviantART in 2014, shortly after the first game came out. So everything that happens might not fit in perfectly with canon.

Your boyfriend Mike had been in desperate need of a job. So he got one at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria, which was where you had your first job. You suggested he use you as a reference.

“So, how did the interview go?”

“Oh, yeah, they hired me almost as soon as I got there,” Mike answered, locking the door to the apartment behind him. He leaned over and kissed you on the cheek before walking into the kitchen. 

“Did you drop any names~?” you persisted, almost jumping after him. 

“Yeah, after I was hired,” he replied. Your shoulders slumped. He gave you a weird look before opening up the fridge and grabbing a box of takeout leftovers. “Want any noodles, babe?”

“No, I’m good.”

You shut the refrigerator door with your shoulder and leaned against it. Mike Schmidt, the man of your dreams, sighed.

“What’s eating you?”

“What did the manager say about me?”

“Uh…” He looked down for a few moments. When he raised his head again, you made sure he caught your eye. “What do you want me to say?”

“The same manager is still there, _riiight_?”

Mike threw his hands in the air. “He looked sort of shocked, alright?”

“ _Shocked_?”

Wincing at your tone, he slowly opened his mouth, shut it, and finally worked up the nerve to speak again. 

“Okay, that was probably too strong a word. He just seemed surprised when I mentioned I knew you.”

“‘Knew’?”

Your boyfriend looked at you guilty, like he knew he was just digging himself in deeper. “Did you want me to mention my love life to my future boss of just five days?”

“’F-five days’? That’s only a single work week! Why?!”

Mike shrugged, annoyed at himself. “I guess that it’s a trial run. Look, [name], it’s okay. I’m going to get a paycheck at the end of the week.”

“How m-?”

“And a discount,” he added as an afterthought. “How much? Well, only one hundred twenty dollars for now.”

“How much do you get off?” you questioned, coldly. Mike pulled you in for a hug, you wrapped your arms around him, feeling mad at yourself. “S-sorry…”

“It’s okay, it’s been hard for both of us. With your butt-busting job and the fact that I haven’t been earning my keep… But hey, at least I get a fifty cent discount.” 

**12:00 AM**  
“’…at least I get a fifty cent discount,’” you mocked under your breath, gripping the steering wheel in your hands. 

Ever since Mike told you about the wanted ad for a night watchman, you’d been angry at him and you weren’t even sure why. It wasn’t like you hated Freddy Fazbear’s. In fact, the fond memories you had of elementary school birthdays were what made you get a summer cooking job there. And you longed to be back there. But your boyfriend’s wage was so low, he was obviously getting other benefits AKA cheating on you. Which is why you decided it was necessary to discreetly follow him to his job, break in, and confront him while he was in the act of doing God-knows-what with some floozy.  

You let your hands droop down onto your thighs. If Mike wasn’t being unfaithful, and you were just being absurdly jealous, you would have to think of an alibi for why you illegally entered his workplace.

 _He’s the one who asked_ me _out. And we live together. If I show up and there’s no sign of any bodacious female guard, I’ll make it up to him then and there. Hehe~ Wait. No._ No. _There are probably cameras everywhere, even in this office._

Slamming your fist down on your dashboard, you let out of a sigh. What kind of girlfriend stalked her boyfriend? It was bad enough you were doing this at night. Even worse that you were following him to his job. There was a rumor that security guards, at least the nocturnal ones, were in high demand at Freddy’s. That meant he was less likely to be fired if his boss found out Mike’s clingy ladyfriend (you) showed up. 

Still, even if you were a former employee, you could get into a lot of trouble. Although you doubted that it would be reported to the police. The Bite of ’87 plus the incident with the five children made the owner extremely concerned with the reputation of the pizzeria. “Crazed Girlfriend of Night Guard Breaks in, Takes Pics of Unfaithful Behavior, Posts Online” probably wasn’t going to make the headlines. You made up your mind. It was time to go in.

_Right after some relaxing music._

Taking your phone out, you shuffled the songs and hit play. Henry Hall and His Orchestra’s “Teddy Bear’s Picnic” came on. You brought your charger, but forgot your earphones.

“If you go down in the woods today you’re sure of a big surprise/If you go down in the woods today you’d better go in disguise~”

You thought back to the five missing, and most likely murdered, children. One thing you never understood was why your coworkers never found the name you’d dubbed the perpetrator as clever as you did.

 _“Teddy Krueger”. It works on so many levels. He was wearing a_ Freddy _Faz **bear** suit. And his victims were_ kids _._

“…today’s the day the teddy bears have their pic-nic~” concluded the song. You turned the music off and let the screen fade to black, but not before checking the time. It was 12:39 AM. _Now_ was the time to find a way to break in into Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria.

 _Schmidt didn’t mention anything about any other night guards. I wonder if there’s a reason for that…_ you pondered, slipping your phone into your front pocket and unlocking the car door.


	2. One o'Clock

**1:00 AM**  
 _Maybe I should start watching the news more, to stay aware of the minimum wage_ , you thought bitterly, _because according to Mike’s paycheck it most certainly isn’t $9.32 an hour._

You spent a while nostalgically wandering around the dining area. Eying the birthday hats, you smiled. If you hadn’t gotten tired of being a chef, you would have been making the pizza for the birthday boy or girl tomorrow. If Mike wasn’t cooped up with some P.Y.T. in the office (which seemed to be becoming less likely with every step you took), he would probably be watching you in disbelief. Well, he did once say, in the throes of passion, that you were unbelievably hot. So your behavior could be unbelievable, too. 

A dim light shone in front of you. Looking up, you found yourself in front of Pirate Cove. The curtain was rippling, like someone was holding it closed and shaking. 

“Sorry.” The figure behind went still. You waited for a few moments, unsure. There was a clanking of metallic paws awkwardly shuffling around. “It’s me, [name]. I forgot. You don’t like being stared at.”

You bit down on your lip and felt pity for the scopophobic fox. Even during the daytime he was programmed to act slightly shy. Whoever designed the animatronics knew how to give them personality, which was how Freddy’s became the local beloved, family-friendly birthday location it was… or had been. Too bad the Bite and the disappearances forced the owner to scrap plans for a franchise. 

Before you turned around to continue your mission, you thought you caught a quick glimpse of Foxy’s glowing eye peeping out from the curtain again.  
***  
The next animatronic you came across was Chica. She seemed a bit startled when she caught sight of you. As you walked up to her, the chicken took a step back, her beak opening up in alarm before she snapped it back shut. 

“Ay, Chica!” 

Arms held up in a “Hold on!” gesture, she shook her head. You gave her a look and she took another step back, teeth clacking against each other. 

“Sorry,” you said for the second time that night. “It’s me, [name]. How are-?”

Before you could finish your question, she jerkily made her way around you to the kitchen, where she shut the door and proceeded to make a clamor. A little unsettled, you wondered why Freddy’s friends weren’t doing anything about a night “guest”.  

_Either they remember me and don’t like me, or they’re not doing anything because they think I’m an intruder._

“Maybe Mike told them to not to bother me,” you said aloud. Trying to hold back a snort, you kept on walking down to the office. You knocked on the wall to announce your arrival. The magnetized door came down just as your fist left the wall.

Frustrated, you politely knocked on the door three times. It remained shut. You honestly hoped for his sake that he didn’t close them because he saw you coming.

“Mike? Honey?”

The door promptly shot up. Mike, a tablet in his dominant hand, grabbed you around the waist and pulled you into the room. Giving his post a quick glance, you beamed in approval. 

_No one here but us chickens._

He moved his arm so he could get a grip on your shoulder. “What are you doing here?!” His baby blues looked like they were about to pop out of his sockets. 

You waved your hand. “Don’t worry, they won’t fire you.”

“What are you talkin-? No, never mind. I have _no_ idea what you were thinking coming here, but I’m not letting you leave this office until six.”

Mike stared into your eyes, looking like he was full of love and determination. Placing your hand over his, you picked it up and gripped it back. Your boyfriend winced.

“‘Until six’? Are you trying to proposi-?”

“When did your grip get so stron-? No. _No._ Don’t say anything. Just… Hide under the desk!”

“Hey baby, you’re being kinda irrational.”

“The phone guy said they would stuff me into a suit!” Mike blurted out. He turned his head away for a moment before gazing into your eyes again. “The watchman before me left messages on the phone. He said if Freddy and his merry band of wanderers caught me, they would mistake me for an endoskeleton and stuff me into a suit.”

“Stuff you into a suit? I’d like to see them try.”


	3. Two o'Clock

**2:00 AM**  
your phone said. You let the screen fade back to black before shoving it into your back pocket. Mike wouldn’t let you leave his office, despite your insistence that Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy especially weren’t going to do anything to harm you.

“Look, [name], I think you need help.”

“What?” 

“The mood swings, the erratic behavior… It started a few days before I told you I was going to work here. And it’s only gotten worse.”

This was what you were afraid of. He didn’t know the whole story. About how you suspected there was another woman in the picture. 

_That’s not something he’s going to take very well…_ you thought, trying to find a way to tell him what your motive was without making him think that you believed he was untrustworthy. _There has to be_ some reason _why they’re only paying him one hundred twenty dollars per wee- Hold on._

Everything clicked into place. The answer was practically spelled out in bright neon letters in front of you. You grimaced and shut your left eye.

“Why are you winking at me?”

“I’m not,” you answered, continuing to keep the lid down. Mike subconsciously bit his bottom lip, deeply concerned about you.

“Mike, I need to use the restroom.”

“There’s a bucket-”

“I’m not going in a bucket, Mike.”

“ _I’m not letting you go back out again, [name]._ ”

You sat staring him down from your spot under the desk. Didn’t the cameras show him that Foxy and Chica were, well, not friendly, but certainly not threats towards your wellbeing?

“Please, [name]. I care about you, I love you…”

“I lo… Music box?”

“Freddy,” Mike muttered under his breath, getting ready to press the button. This was your chance. You hopped to your feet and rushed out the doorway while he was distracted. The door slammed down. Your boyfriend made a sound between a yelp and a gasp.

Leaning against the wall next to the shut door, you gave the ursine robot a curt nod. He seemed to recognize you, at least. Freddy Fazbear titled his head and lifted a paw to indicate Mike. You shook your head. His shoulders slumped and he turned around, making an obnoxious metallic grinding in the process. As he marched back up the way he came, you decided to visit Foxy again after using the ladies’ room.   
***  
His entire face was peeking out of the curtains this time. Glad that he was feeling more courageous, you cautiously made your way onto the stage. The pirate fox stood still for a few moments, before reaching his hand out to you. You were about to take his hand in yours before realizing that he was holding out a folded up square of paper. You gently took it from him and opened it, revealing a crayon drawing.

It was a depiction of a much younger you, wearing an outfit you vaguely remembered. Either a friend at a party drew it and he kept it for…how many years? Or, less likely, he drew it himself. The pirate raised his right arm and your eyes widened. He tapped his hook against the bottom corner, where much more crudely drawn black stick figures of you two were holding hands. 

_What’s the caption say?_ You held it up to the light. _“It’s us.”_

“Th-thank you, Foxy.”

The animatronic stared at you for a few moments. Then he held up one finger and turned around, letting the curtains cover him again. You heard the robot walk a few steps and bend down. Instead of coming out, like you’d hoped, he stuck out his hand again. Lying on his palm was a stereotypical pirate’s eye patch. 

Taking it from him, you grinned. You put it over your left eye and gave him a little salute.

“Ahoy, cap’in!”


	4. Three o'Clock

Foxy didn’t even want to leave the stage. To be fair, he was obviously trying to get on your good side, despite being pretty sheepish for a fox. Still, you were beginning to realize why Fazbear and company were behaving like they were. So, because you couldn’t make any progress with them, you decided to head back to Mike. 

At first you thought he would be less than thrilled to see you, but he looked ridiculously relieved. Until his expression slowly began metamorphosing and he began to look more emotionally drained than you’d ever seen him.

“They’re afraid of you,” he said bluntly. Then he gave you an almost coy puzzled look. “Why are you wearing…?”

“Foxy made me his first mate,” you replied, gently tapping the patch. 

“So,” he continued, furrowing his brow, “what the phone guy said about stuffin-?”

“Probably isn’t true.” Mike looked even more relieved. “At least for me. I was a _chef_ , and you’re just a newbie security guard. A _nocturnal_ , newbie security guard.”

“Can you at least tell me why they’re afraid of you?” he asked, glancing at his tablet.

“Uh… Can I tell you a little later?”

He sighed and held out your phone, making you remember what was stuffed in a little plastic bag in your back pocket. “Here’s your phone.”

“Thanks.”  
***  
At first Mike kept you in his office because he was afraid for you. Now, you were becoming increasingly suspicious that he was _afraid of you_. 

_“The mood swings, the erratic behavior…”_ you kept replaying what he said to you earlier. _“It started a few days before I told you I was going to work here. And it’s only gotten worse.” He’s going to be_ really surprised _when he finds out why._

“I haven’t seen Bonnie tonight. Has he been moving much?”

“No, he’s actually with Foxy right now,” Mike answered, eyes glued to the tablet. “Looks like they’re having a staring contest.”

“Huh? Let me see.”

The Cove’s camera showed Bonnie and Foxy facing each other, seemingly immobile. Your heart began to thump almost painfully when you saw the animatronic bunny nod and make his way off the stage.  Foxy’s eyes became fixated with the camera and you felt your face heat up slightly. 

“That’s the first time I’ve seen them move on screen,” your boyfriend answered, looking a little uneasy. “Before, they were like Weeping Angels…”

“Mike, honey... I’m going to have to leave for a bit.”

The security guard snapped his head in your direction. “Look, just because the animatronics haven’t been moving around much tonight-”

“The only reason,” you interjected, “they’re leaving you alone is because I’m here. I’ll be right back. Call me if anything goes wrong.”

You were pretty sure that Fazbear Entertainment wouldn’t allow their night guards to carry cellphones. In fact, you were pretty sure that the phone in the office could only be used to call other phones on the premise.  

Walking backward out the door, you kept your gaze locked with Mike’s before turning around and walking as fast as you dared down the hallway. As you suspected, Bonnie the Bunny was leisurely making his way down the hallway towards your boyfriend.

“Bonnie,” you greeted. He stopped in his tracks, almost unsure of what to do next. Unlike Chica, he wasn’t frightened of you. And he wasn’t self-conscious, like your vulpine admirer. He looked over your head, probably wondering if he could get away with running past you.

“Don’t think about it.” The robotic rabbit put one foot forward. “Don’t _do_ it.”

Bonnie looked down at your face and tilted his head slightly. Another step was made before you slammed your foot onto his, denting it slightly. On reflex, he tossed his head back and you firmly grabbed both of his ears, being careful not to crush them, and brought his face down to yours.

_Little Bunny Foo Foo here probably resembles the animal he’s based off the least_ , you mentally scoffed. _‘Cept maybe the chick with arms._

“I’m not sure what you and Foxy were conversing about, but you leave my- _Mike_ alone.”

Bonnie stared at you for a few moments before bringing his hand up and gently flicking the eye patch in what he apparently thought was a playful manner. You lost it. 

Pushing him over, you briefly wondered how much damage you could get away with. It wasn’t like the manager or anyone besides the night guard checked the security cam. You’d be able to place the blame on Mike and there was the brief possibility he’d be fired… and safe. 

_Yeah, right. Wish I could do more to this leporine loser…_

The bunny’s elbows hit the floor, which allowed Bonnie to catch himself in time. Had he landed on his back, he may not have been able to get up, you realized. Bonnie lifted himself up and instead of pushing you aside, he glanced at you, shook his head, and walked back the way he came. 

As soon as he was out of sight, you checked your phone: **3:00 AM**.

_My battery’s getting pretty low… Oh, wait, I brought my charger!_

You plugged your phone into the nearest socket and allowed it to charge to forty-five percent. Lucky for you, your phone was very energy efficient, so you probably wouldn’t have to charge it again for a while.   
***  
“Hey, sorry ‘bout that, I’m going to try to stay with you until your shift end- Why did you turn the fan off?”

Mike was slumped in his chair, beginning to perspire heavily. The sleeves of his uniform had been rolled up.

“At night, this place gets a limited power supply,” he explained wearily. “I haven’t been checking the cameras as much, because you’re here, but the power started to drop all of a sudden and I didn’t want to take any chances…”

“Oh!” you exclaimed, clamping a hand over your mouth. You were a little relieved that he didn’t ask you why you didn’t appear to be sweltering like he was. “Sorry, I wouldn’t have charged my phone if I’d known…” He looked relieved, instead of angry, which gave you an idea. “Hey, why don’t I make it up to you~?”

“Huh?”

You strutted over to his chair, swinging your hips slightly. Mike bit down on his lip. Lifting yourself onto his lap, you licked his warm, damp cheek. Your boyfriend’s eyes widened.

“Hey, why don’t you keep both doors down for a while? If the power goes off, and we’re stuck here until six o’clock, well, I’m sure you can think of an excuse as to why I’m here. I’ll get your creative juices flowing~”

“[name], when we get home, after I’ve had a shower… But not now. If I leave the doors closed for too long, then… Never mind.”

Mike Schmidt kissed you on the cheek and gazed lovingly into eyes. 

_He’s not in the mood… That’s a first_ , you thought, straightening up and giving him a sad smile. 

He leaned back in his chair. “You said you’d explain to me why they’re afraid of you.”

It was your turn to bite your lip. “It’s that that simple. _Chica_ ’s afraid of me, and I’ll tell you why in a minute. Foxy’s probably afraid, but not as much as Chica and for a different reason. Freddy actually respects me, I think. Bonnie… Well, he didn’t really care too much for me at first but because of Foxy I think I’m growing on him. Not really sure if the feeling’s mutual or not.

“Anyway, they’re not threats to me.”

“Am… Am I safe?”

“Oh no, they’d attack you if I wasn’t here. They’re out for fresh blood, man.”

“I still don’t understand why they won’t attack _you_ , [name], yet it’s open season for Mikes out there. Is it because I’m new? Shouldn’t they be programmed not to attack anyone, especially employees? If someone broke in, I could understan-”

“Mike,” you said, pulling off the eye patch to reveal your glowing left eye, “the animatronics won’t attack cyborgs.”


	5. Four o'Clock

Mike Schmidt was wavering between horror and awe. On one hand, his girlfriend’s recent behavior made more sense. On the other hand…

“That’s actually kind of hot. Scary, but hot.” 

You placed the eye patch in your unoccupied back pocket. 

“I slept with a robot.”

“I’m not a robot,” you corrected gently. “All the cybernetic parts, except my eye, are covered in my own tissue.”

There was a moment of silence where Mike just stared at you, before lowering his gaze. He slumped back in his chair and gripped the arms. His expression looked so desperate.

_Story time…_  
***  
“What’s that squealin’?”

“What squealing?” she asked, bouncing the ball back to you. 

“Sounds like pigs in pai-”

That’s when the gigantic wheels trampled your friend, decimating her legs. You didn’t hear the bones crunch or her screech or your scream. Just the squeal of the tires. As you turned to run, you found yourself flying.  
***  
You couldn’t remember the pain, just flickering in and out of consciousness between the surgeries. At least your friend was there with you to share the experience of growing flesh back over your bones.   
***  
Your family urged you to get a job at Freddy’s one summer. They’d never pressured you to get a job before, they didn’t suggest any other places, and you liked it there, so you willingly filled out the application.   
***  
The first time you came in afterhours was at six o’clock on a Saturday night. To your surprise, the animatronics were wandering around. Freddy himself started to come towards you before the manager, who’d greeted you at the door, shut the lights off.

A beam of light shot out from your left eye and hit the bear’s face. He paused, nodded his head towards you, and walked past you. 

“Your programming seems to work fine,” the manager told you. Both of his eyes were glowing. “Your robotic parts _will_ act differently here than anywhere else.”

Shaking, you lifted your hand to your face and gently tapped your left eyeball.   
***  
After explaining how the bones in your left arm, left leg, right foot, and even a few ribs had to be replaced, your boss led you to the kitchen, where he nonchalantly leant against the door. 

“Have you heard of the Bite of ’87?”

Of course you had. Before applying, you tried to find out everything about Freddy Fazbear’s. On a message board you read about that particular urban legend. It was much more popular in the early 1990’s and barely spoken of today.

“Where a little boy lost his frontal lobe because some unspecified anima-?”

“That little boy was me!” he told you gleefully. It turned out that everyone in the kitchen was a cyborg and a victim of some horrible (not necessarily Fazbear-related) accidents. And that’s why the pay was so high.   
***  
It wasn’t like you could have told anybody else what you were. Not even your friend, because only her leg bones were mechanical. You had no idea what she’d do if she had to go in for an x-ray. You guessed her family would have to eventually tell her. 

_I can’t get it to light up again_ , you thought, sitting in your dark bedroom. Shivering, you wondered if the robotic eyeball was attached to your brain. _Fazbear Entertainment paid for everything. I can’t betray them…_  
***  
Luckily for you, the owner was sure of your loyalty. But that meant that you were forced to participate in the iniquitous actions that went on in the falsely family-friendly pizza restaurant. 

Before one died, there were two owners. The remaining owner used to run a butcher shop, and he saved money by forgoing the middleman, a slaughterhouse. He continued doing that at the pizzeria, only this time the pigs were sedated before being driven over. Surprisingly, there were no rumors of this practice online. 

The worst part of your job was emptying the tanks of porcine blood into Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy. The deceased owner had been a robotics expert and equally as thrifty, so he found a solution to the rising cost of fuel that fit in with his co-owner’s onsite livestock slaughter.    
***  
“The Butcher”, as the kitchen staff intimately knew him, did not know much about robotics. So when his cyberneticist partner died shortly after the five children went missing, he became paranoid that someone would find out about the hogs. Unfortunately, business was failing and there was no one to find a less gruesome way to fuel Freddy and co. 

Whenever an animatronic needed to be fixed, a mechanic was brought in. And that’s how you got your first boyfriend.  
***  
“So, are the rumors true?” the man asked, examining Foxy’s jaw. Ever since the Bite, it seemed to keep breaking. 

You stiffened from your spot on the stage, holding your mouth shut as the carbonation of your soft drink made you burp. Six o’clock was approaching and you were there to make sure that the mechanic got out before his “patients” became active.

“What ru-?” you started, before coming up with a distraction. “That’s a nice watch. Why are you wearing it while fixing animatronics?”

He glanced down and frowned. “You’re right. I usually take it off first. Can you get it for me? My hands are covered in… Holy crap, you guys really do you use blood. I was going to joke about people claiming to have seen bodily fluids tripping from the animatronics’ orifices.”

“Yeah,” you muttered glumly, setting your cup down. As you walked over to the man, your eyes traveled to his lower back. 

_My, my. Looks like someone’s been doing step ups at the gym._

“It’s pig blood. We get it straight from the slaughterhouse,” you lied. “And we’d prefer to keep it a company secret.”

“Well, I’ve seen crazier things used as fuel. Is it economical?”

“Very.” 

“I heard Fazbear’s was going to become a franchise, before, you know-”

“The missing kids? Yeah, we had to let go of all the guys who wore the suits. Because Teddy Krueger-” 

You clamped your mouth shut. Your coworkers, at least the ones in the kitchen, didn’t find that name witty and they had to like gallows humor in order to go to work every day. Everyone else had been a little disgusted at that Elm Street allusion. 

“Is that what they call the kidnapper?” he asked, letting out a short laugh. “That’s clever. Horrible, but clever.”

“A-Actually, I’m the only one who calls him that,” you replied, shrugging. “Or her.”

The relationship lasted for almost a month and a half.   
***   
One day he was called in because some kid took “Let’s Eat!!!” to mean “shove pizza down the chicken’s maw”. It was 5:47 on a Sunday night and you walking toward the main stage. The only people in the building were you, the manager, and the mechanic. 

_Business is worse than ever_ , you lamented, coming out of the stall. You washed your hands and picked up the cup of lemonade you’d poured for you boyfriend before making your way towards the main stage. _I’m not sure they can keep paying me so much money. And we’ve been trying to use less blood…_

“[name]!” you heard the Bite victim of ’87 call out. You turned around. There were red footprints behind him.

“Don’t go back in the kitchen,” he warned. Bemused, you let him place his hands on your shoulders and guide you away to the office. “I just got out of the bathroom and I was going to lock-”

“Was there a leak?” you asked desperately. 

“ _I’m so sorry_ , [name].” His hands were still on your shoulder. “We weren’t giving them enough blood.”

The lemonade slipped from your grasp, spilling onto the floor. Quaking, you checked the time. It was only 5:50 PM, ten minutes before they were supposed to start wandering.    
***  
The owner had the body, or what was left of it, moved. An actual murder being committed there would spell death for the pizzeria, too. But you couldn’t feel angry at the animatronics, whichever one did it.  It was what they were programmed to do; scare intruders and indulge in hematophagy. 

_One just got confused_ , you tried to convince yourself.    
***  
The next time a mechanic was hired, she was instructed to come during the day. The only people there were a family whose youngest child was having her third birthday party and from the looks the father was giving the place they wouldn’t be coming back.  

The new mechanic had a wedding ring instead of a watch and seemed to feel a little insulted that the manager had asked you to stay with her while she fixed the animatronics. 

“Shouldn’t you be asking if that family over there wants more refills or something?”

“I’m a _cook_ ,” you insisted. “Make sure you don’t put your hand in any of their mouths.”

“I might need to.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Why don’t you give Vixen over there some company? Tell me if she has any pizza stains on _her_.” 

You took the hint and went over to visit Foxy, who was behind the curtain because the birthday girl was afraid of pirates. He looked up, probably thinking he was going to be “fed”. 

“Hey Foxy, I’m just waiting for the mech-”

He held out his hand to you. Lying in the palm was a watch.  
***  
By the time the mechanic had worked her way over to Pirate Cove, you’d broken Foxy’s jaw, attempted to rip his legs off, and now you were trying to tear his chest open.

“Hey, hey!” 

The mechanic pried you off of the pirate fox. You briefly thought about punching her before remembering that could kill her. 

“What-?! Oh my God, you’re bleeding!”

_It’s not my blood._

She tried to discreetly lead you off the stage but the guests looked over, visibly horrified. The three-year-old was the only one who didn’t look bothered. 

The mechanic lead you to the ladies’ room and tried to make small talk.

“So, uh, a chicken with teeth is pretty creepy, huh?”

“I guess,” you said, tonelessly. 

“Sooo… Why did they give Chica two pairs?”

_Oh, no…_

**4:00 AM**  
“I quit the next day.”

Mike looked perturbed. “Why are you just telling me this now?”

“I... really didn’t remember _until_ now,” you answered truthfully. _Oh God, what did Fazbear Entertainment do to me?_

“Well, this explains why a new security guard is needed every week. Man, I feel like Theseus.”

“That’s also probably why your pay is so low. They need to choose someone who really has nowhere else to turn to.”

Your boyfriend pulled at his shirt distastefully. “And they probably have to replace the uniform all the time.”

“Mike,” you said, reaching into your back pocket to pull out the plastic baggie. “I have something to show you.”

“What is that?” he asked, leaning forward. His eyes widened. “Is that-?”

“A positive pregnancy test,” you confirmed.

_“The mood swings, the erratic behavior…”_


	6. Five o'Clock

Mike looked blank for a moment, his brain taking its sweet time to process this information. Then you thought his face was going to split, his grin was so wide. 

“I’m a daddy!”

He danced in a place a little and you were afraid he was going to either start thrusting his hips or twerking. You’d heard stories about men who did such things. The reaction could have been worse. 

_He’s happy. He’s actually happy_ , you thought, amazed at the joy in his eyes. When the pink bar appeared, you felt pretty elated. That was almost nothing in comparison to his euphoria.

The father of your child started to pick you up, thought better of it, and carefully twirled you around. On the fourth rotation you gently tapped him, making him come to a stop. You were hovering above his chair, hanging onto his shoulders. Mike placed his lips over yours and you savored that finite expression of love. 

“I can’t believe it,” he told you, wonder in his voice. “This is-”

Your phone went off. The ringtone was the overture from _Carmen_. You started to count the seconds.

“That can wait,” said Mike, seriously. Then his face split back into that goofy smile. “I’m a father, now.”

_I think I know who the caller is._

Mike closed his eyes and snuggled you into his chest. Even his heartbeat was enthusiastic. Sixty seconds went by…

“Hey, [name], that tune sounds familiar.”

“Really? What does it sound like?”

Before he could reply, a pair of thick, brown hands grasped the sides of Mike’s neck, twisted, and pulled. There was a crunching pop, then your front was splattered in blood. A few flecks hit your left eye, which you didn’t bother shutting. Your right twitched a few times before fully opening.

Freddy Fazbear held the head of Mike

_Start over. Don’t think of it that way. Now it’s just a skull with flesh and gunky bits inside._

Freddy Fazbear held it slightly above eye level. The expression on it was slightly confused, but not pained or terrified. You let out a relieved sigh. The mechanical bear’s gaze slid down to meet your eyes.

“I knew it had to come to this, Freddy,” you agreed.

The mascot brought the object in his hands down to his chest. You just noticed that Mike’s body was resting against his murderer’s front. 

“I can’t _be in_ a relationship with a normal human being.”  
***  
It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. When you told your first boyfriend you were pregnant (which you weren’t), you thought it’d be funny. 

“Are you kidding me?” asked the mechanic. You resisted the urge to gulp. “Well, I thought your stomach looked a little bloated... Well, when the kid pops out, you can just give it up, right?”

_“It”?_

“I… I _was_ kidding.”

“Don’t joke about things like that,” he replied, walking out of the room.   
***  
It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried. You weren’t attracted to any of your coworkers, no matter how much you wanted to be. They understood near death experiences. They understood what it was like having days were you just didn’t feel human, not just because of what was inside but because of the job itself.

Even when others showed romantic interest in you, you didn’t like keeping secrets. Mike Schmidt had been persistent. He’d asked you out, asked you to move in with him… Then he applied at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria.

_He thought he was going to be a night guard. Even I didn’t know he was really a sacrifice... Not until the end._

Impatiently, Freddy shook Mike’s head in front of your face. A few more drops hit your face.

“Yeah, sure, go ahead,” you agreed again. _He knew too much. Even before I told him what I was, he wouldn’t have been able to avoid this._

The overture stopped. It was time to call the manager back. Right after you had a talk with your tod suitor.  
 **5:00 AM**


	7. Six o'Clock

You placed your right foot forward. If you heard chomping behind you, you would’ve stopped dillydallying and started skedaddling. There was a ripping sound and your neck involuntarily started to twist back. Forcibly swiveling your neck back into position, you almost walked into Bonnie. 

_I am in control_ , you assured yourself. _I am a cyborg._

Your technology, however sparse, was much more advanced than anything the animatronics would ever possess. If both of your arms contained metal instead of bones, you could have ripped his face off… if you liked. Although you doubted that it would, in the long term, help. 

_Carmen_ ’s overture started up again. You ignored the call, but not before checking the caller. As you suspected, it was your former manager.  
***  
“Freddy killed Mike.”

The curtains were completely opened. Foxy stood off center.  

You gazed up at your admirer. He took a few steps forward before lowering himself into a seated position, his legs dangling over the edge. Not quite apprehensive, you made your way onto the stage but not before accidentally kicking in one of the lights. That didn’t startle him. Foxy helped you up and began pulling the shards out of your shoe. 

“I don’t know how many or even _if_ you’ve killed night guards,”

_…he just let the others get Mike…_

“…but I know you weren’t the one who killed my first boyfriend.”

_I wonder if Chica still has the extra choppers…_

Foxy tapped your shoulder gently with his hook, startling you slightly. In his hand was the watch. 

_Does no one bother to clean out the Cove?_ you pondered, thinking back to the drawing that was tucked in one of your pockets. 

“Than-”

Your cellphone went off once more. As soon as you took it out, his hand jerkily reached out. Annoyed, you held it out of his reach. Foxy, you realized, was trying to crush whatever got in the way of Foxy/[name].

“It’ll just be a minute,” you assured him. 

“ _What are you doing at Fazbear’s?_ ”

“Uh, well, I followed Mike and-”

“Yes, I saw you follow the dead man guarding. I literally live right next to the pizzeria. Like, you know that fence-?”

“Yeah, yea- Wait. ‘Dead man guarding’?”

“…”

“Like ‘dead man walking’? I wouldn’t put it pass the Butcher to use guards as tributes, but you knew about this?!”

“[name],” he tried to reason, “no one misses the guards we hire for the… graveyard shift.”

“Am I a no one now?”

“No, _no_.” The Bite victim sighed. “It’s just, when he told us where his apartment was, well-”

“Two. I’ve lost two boyfriends because of Fazbear Entertainment.”

“Well,” your former manager sarcastically replied, “the mechanic wasn’t very supportive during your ‘ _first_ ’ pregnan-”

“Wait.”

During the infernal silence, Foxy attempted to put the watch around your wrist, as if to comfort you. You held your phone between your cheek and your shoulder and put it on yourself, just to make him happy. When you finished, he placed his palm over your own. 

“ **How did you know that?** ”

You could hear the manager’s breathing.

“He told me he didn’t want a kid _at his house_. How do you kno-?”

“Look, I think it’d be better if we talked in person.”

“How long have you been spying on me, _liar_?”  
   
“I’m not the only- _Look._ Just stay where you are. I’ve been here this whole time. When I saw that you were in the parking lot, I knew something was up. I’m walking to Pirate Cove’s as we speak.”  
***  
Your grip tightened and Foxy looked down at you. You were really sick of all the secrets. Not just the ones that were being kept from you, but the ones you had to keep from other people.

“Hey,” the Bitten one greeted, strolling towards the stage. He was holding a tablet and a cellphone. 

“Where were you hiding out?” you questioned.

“Uh, in the men’s room. Look, I know you want answers and I’m going to give them to you.

“First, let me ask you a question.” You lowered your eyelids and glared at him. “Are you sad about Mike’s passing?”

“Of-”

 _‘…course?’ No. I’m not sad. Not really. But Mike was _mine_. He was the father of_ my _child._

He took note of your expression and nodded. “You’re not sad. Just angry and maybe scared, right? 

“You’re not sad because you got the update. We _finally_ got a new… tech guy. Although the upgrade is, uh, a little glitchy, we…”

_Oh my God._

“…create, not exactly a hive mind, but…” he rambled on, ignorant to the fact your head was in the (stormy) clouds. “…empathy for non-cyborgs-”

“There isn’t a camera in the office.”

“Well, there was at the time of Mike Schmidt’s death.”  
***  
_I can’t get it to light up again_ , you thought, sitting in your dark bedroom. Shivering, you wondered if the robotic eyeball was attached to your brain.  
***  
Quite a few unsavory images flickered through your thoughts. Stomach lurching, you thought back to earlier that night when you found out that you were with child.

“My eye was a camera…”

_…and much more…_

“…this entire time,” you replied, tilting your head down. “You used it to eavesdrop on my conversations. What else have you heard?”

“I didn’t hear anything. I can read lips. So can the owner,” he continued. “Don’t feel bad. All of the cyborg employees got the update, including me.”

Rage was boiling inside you.

“Unfortunately, the new cyberneticist said it’d be better if people knew they were being updated… He thinks the reason the glit-”

“Why should I get I get another… update? How do I know my behavior isn’t just because of hormones?”

“You have a baby on the way,” he retorted. “And you can’t get any money off of Mike. That means you need a better job. Why not one where you’re already _accepted_? Also, you’re not the only one who has a camera eye, so don’t feel personally victimized.”

_How many intimate scenes…?_

“Okay. What do I have to do?”

He indicted the tablet. “I can just use this. Now, you have to be unconscious for…”

You slid off the stage and landed on your feet. _Did he have to know my sleep schedule so I wouldn’t notice?_

“Can I see how you’re going to do it?”

He looked a little confused. “Yeah, I just have to hit ‘INSTALL’ and you’re good to go.”

“So, what does the update do, exactly?”

“Were you not paying attention the first time?” he asked. “Okay, the thing is, you’re not the first cyborg to have relationship/social issues…

“The combination of a near death experience, working at such a ‘morbid’ place five days a week, all the secrets that have to be kept…”

You’d fully captured your manager’s attention, so he didn’t know that the pirate fox was looming behind him. 

_You know, he never told me which anima-_

Foxy’s hook plunged into the Fazbear manager’s right ear, which immediately started to leak blood. The Bitten one looked too terrified to scream. The fox, however, did.

 _Oh God, it sounds like a child_ , you realized, placing your hands on your belly.

He widened his metallic jaw, revealing slightly sharpened denticles. With a wet pop, Foxy jerked the hook out. The vulpine animatronic’s maw engulfed the revictimized manager’s head. The accompanied crunch was enough to make you gag.

You caught the tablet before it could crash to the ground. His phone, on the other hand, shattered against the checkered floor. 

Foxy’s mouth opened, releasing the body, which collapsed by your feet. 

_Protective…_

You slid down onto your bottom, grasping the sides of the tablet. 

“You were supposed to die the first time,” you told the cadaver, “I think. I wonder if I was supposed to die, too.”

Sighing, you hit “INSTALL”. “That doesn’t matter now. I have a child and a f…”  
**6:00 AM**  
As you slid back into consciousness, you were captivated by Foxy’s glowing eyes. You lowered your gaze and noticed there was a trail of blood behind him. 

-Thanks for dragging the corpse away.-

-No problem.-

Startled, you wonder-  
***  
“…create, not exactly a hive mind, but…” he rambled on, ignorant to the fact your head was in the (stormy) clouds.  
***  
_Funny, I didn’t remember that the first time around_ , you thought privately.

Your new boyfriend placed his hand on your stomach, which was gurgling. 

-Is that your baby?-

-No, I’m just hungry. The stomach is above the uterus.-

The pirate looked a little perplexed, but you knew you’d have plenty of time to explain later.

 _He attacked a cyborg_ , you pondered, watching Foxy point towards the door, where the blood trail continued. _What stopped the other animatronics from killing me?_

-Do you want…?-

“I can’t eat _him_ ,” you answered, suppressing a laugh. “I’m just going to get some pizza.”

You started to make your way towards the kitchen before he blocked you. He placed his hand slightly lower than where he had it before. 

-When you’re done eating, could you tell me about… the joy of procreation?-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, I totally stole the thought-speak idea from Animorphs. Unfortunately, this site doesn't let me format like that. Instead of using inequality signs like brackets, I just used hyphens.


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